Sound the Bugle
by The Sabbit
Summary: [Treasure Planet] Captain Jim Hawkins's merchant ship is attacked, and he has been taken prisoner by pirates, and he cant remember why. He has to find a way to escape, but it will be hard without inside help.
1. A Sad Setting

Sound the Bugle  
Disclaimer: I don't own Treasure Planet, or the song 'Sound the Bugle.' Just got it in my head and it made me write a story from it about poor Jim. If I did, I'd be rich enough to buy myself a decent keyboard.  
  
[Author's Note; My shot at angst, I get these songs in my head, and they get stuck with plots that spin themselves. I'm just the one who writes them down.]  
  
Captain James Hawkins was struggling to open his eyes. He didn't know where he was, only that his head hurt immensely and his mouth was dry. Finally he got enough strength to lift one eyelid, then the other. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, and for the spots floating in front of his eyes to clear themselves. What he saw did little to cheer or inform him to where he was. A dark room, damp stone walls. Somewhere, something unseen dripped water into a puddle. Jim slowly sat up, off of what appeared to be an old, stiff mattress. He lifted his hand to his pounding head, wondering why it felt like he had blood dried into his hair, making it stiff and prickly. Delirium clouded his mind.  
  
Finally, his head cleared enough to realize that he was no longer on the borrowed ship, the RLS Mistletoe, a merchant fleet transporting plants to several different planets. Not the most exciting job, but it had another purpose. Right now he could barely remember his own full name.  
  
He set about examining what seemed to be a prison cell, and wondered what he had done to get here. The fog in his brain had begun to clear, but his throbbing head prevented any real productive thought. All he could remember was getting hit, real hard, in the back of his head. He wondered for a moment if he had had an accident with his solar surfer, but then realized that that was impossible, he hadn't ridden it in months.  
  
Eventually, Jim came to the conclusion that he had been hurt, intentionally. He remembered reading something once, a long time ago, that for some reason something called 'free association' could help you remember things, but he had forgotten how it worked. So he sat back down on the mattress, rubbing his bloodied head, assessing the wound. He closed his eyes, and painfully leaned against the wall of his cell. His shoulders and back hurt, as if he had pulled every muscle, and he winced.  
  
He was 26 years old, he knew, his mother was waiting for him back home on Montresser, and his ship never made it to Surete, a spaceport in the Lointain galaxy. Loud noises, people running, and wood splintering. His ship crashing to pieces, and someone he cared about fleeing in a longboat. Fire. Guns. A cannon. Jim's eyes flew open. He remembered!  
  
His ship had been ambushed outside of Surete's spaceport, hostile territory, overrun with pirates. Three large galleons against his much smaller merchant trade ship. They had ruthlessly attacked the Mistletoe, rending it to pieces, killing half of his crew. He had convinced his First Mate, a feline relative of Amelia's and a close friend of his, to escape on one of the ship's longboats. He never saw if she made it to safety. The butt of a gun, smashing into the back of his head, had knocked him out. Before he'd been knocked out flying debris had beaten him around a bit; hence his sore back and shoulders. Jim was just glad that nothing seemed to be broken.  
  
Apparently, rather than kill him, the pirates took him captive. Jim couldn't begin to guess why, but he was worried. He had no idea how long he had been in this cell, but he knew that he was hungry, tired, and dirty. He leaned forward and rested his head in the palms of his hands, massaging his forehead. "What'm I gonna do?" he murmured to himself. His ship destroyed, his first mate could be dead or worse, he had no idea when or where he was, and if that blasted thing didn't stop dripping water like that he thought he might go crazy. Jim sighed sullenly. He found himself wondering if Morph had gotten away alright.  
  
His stomach growled, and he wondered if he'd missed whatever dinner he might be given, or if the next meal was breakfast or lunch, or if he would be fed at all. Jim thought, suddenly, of writing to his mother. It had been three weeks since he'd sent his last letter, and he was sure she was thinking of him. He began a search of the pockets of his dirtied uniform, saddened but not surprised to find that all of his possessions were gone, including his dagger and rifle. Not a stylus or parchment anywhere. Not like there was a chance to get a letter sent, even if there was suddenly enough light for him to see in this dungeon. He found himself grinning grimly at what he might write.  
  
Dear Mom, My ship's been destroyed, my crew gone, and I have no idea where I am, other than the fact That it's some kind of cold dark pirate prison. Send my love to B.E.N. and the Dopplers, All my love, Jim  
  
Jim would have laughed if he weren't still so disoriented. If he had been able to admit it to himself, he would have said that he was down right frightened. He leaned over, pressing his forehead to his knees, his arms wrapped around his ribs, and let out a small chuckle. 'What a hopeless looking situation'. 'What am I gonna do?'  
  
A key jangled somewhere, a lock rambled and clicked, and a door swung open, spilling yellow light into Jim's prison cell. He winced against it, the light searing his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, he could see. A squid looking creature stood just beyond bars, Jim had been correct in assuming he was in a prison cell. From what he could see, there was a row of more cells across a narrow hallway, and a door leading outside just in front of his cell. A regular dungeon.  
  
"Food," said the squid, and opened the barred door with a jingle of keys, and the creature slid a bowl on a tray into the cell. Jim merely stared at him from his curled position on the mattress, and the squid closed and locked the door. The one outside pushed a cart along the hallway, stopping to feed more prisoners, and Jim stayed where he was. After the guard was out of sight, Jim slowly stood, shaking his sore legs, and strode to the small tray on the floor. He stooped down and lifted it, sniffing it carefully as he backed up to his mattress where he sat down.  
  
There was no spoon, so he lifted the bowl and took a sip. Surprised, Jim realized that it was rather good, the only thing to lift his spirits since he woke up. Warm, and spicy, and somehow familiar. Jim thought of all the recipes him mom would cook for him back at the Benbow Inn, but it didn't seem like any of those. The soup was like a sip of the past. Jim smirked at the thought. 'Poetry,' Amelia would have said. "Whatever," he mumbled and drank the rest down in gulps.  
  
When he was done, he placed the bowl back down onto the tray and kicked it across the floor to the door. Now that he was fuller, and a little warmer, Jim lied down on the old mattress. He drew his left foot up to his right knee and put his hands behind his head. He meant to lie back and think, but moments later his eyelids drooped and he drifted off into an uneasy sleep. His last thought was foggy, and had something to do with real good soup, a comfortably dark place, a laser eye, laughter, and a chirping pink blob. Morph.  
  
[There, sucky first chapter, but the story will get better, I promise! But only if you review! Jim'll fall a little deeper into his despair, and get a little angsty. I'll try, anyway, if I get some good reviews. Apple Pie goes to everyone who does, because apple pie rocks.] 


	2. A Voice in the Dark

Sound the Bugle  
  
Disclaimer: All those who believe I own Jim are just a little spooky, however much I would like that. Nor do I own any of the songs references that might be mentioned here.  
  
[Author's Note: Wow! I got responses! ^_^ Right now, Comcast has decided to take a vacation, so I'm suck off the Internet. Which is ok, I guess. I really should be doing my homework, but how interesting is putting numbers in order by their exponents? Well, I actually thought of a real plot last night, so I'm very happy. Before I was just gonna, I dunno, have Jim do something and somehow escape. I figured I'd make it up as I went along. But now I got a goood reason to why the pirates kept Jim alive instead of just killing him.]  
  
Slowly Jim opened his eyes. He once again found himself wondering where he was. As the sleep wore away, however, the knowledge of a dank cell in God-only-knows-where sank back in. He sat up off of the flat mattress and rubbed his head. He winced groggily as his fingers roughly swept the blood- crusted hairs on the back of his head and pulled on a cut. Shaking himself he stood, cursing his sore muscles. Jim was determined to talk to someone today, he knew now that he was not alone in this prison since he saw the food squid delivering food elsewhere along his hallway.  
  
He knelt down momentarily and massaged his stiff legs as he recapped the pirate attack on the RLS Mistletoe, trying to find anything that might have triggered the vicious attack. There was something, something very important about the ship that no one but his first mate and himself knew about. Something secret and important, and damnit all, he couldn't remember. And Jim himself had to remain hidden, as well, in the particular galaxy they were in. His first mate was the captain of the ship for a week and a half before the assault. He had been in his quarters fighting boredom when the ship was nearly knocked sideways with the force of the pirate's first blast.  
  
Jim had thought that a -night? - of sleep would revive him: and his memories. But it had only succeeded in making his brain foggier. He was utterly confused, but decided that it would eventually come to him. Before he hadn't been able to remember that he had been hiding, or that other people were hiding, too. There it was! Others, humans like himself, were hiding inside the hull of the ship. When they were safe, Jim would be safe, and he would be able to come out of hiding again. He remember Glin, his first mate and Amelia's niece, had joked about having a 'big nosh-up party' when they were out of danger, but for all he was worth, he didn't even have that annoying feeling that it was even there at the back of his head. Oh well, that was enough soul-searching for now. Jim was hungry, and he wanted to talk with someone.  
  
"Hello?" he called softly, hesitantly. A cough was his only response, that and if he listened closely, he could here someone breathing loudly and someone else muttering to themselves. "Can anyone here me?" he asked, a little louder. Something glowed softly, like an ember across the hallway. It shook and went out, and he could faintly see a white tendril of smoke curl up from where it was. "Is there anyone who can here me over there?" Jim asked again, in where he thought was a loud enough voice. For some reason, he was shocked when a voice, thick with both steely remorse and some strange accent, replied, "Nous sommes tout aller diminuer ici."  
  
Damn. Fichu. The one language his mother wanted him to learn, and the one language he refused to take at the space academy. The strong, sweet scent of vanilla drifted over to him. The voice translated itself a moment later, still in that thick female accent, saying, "We are all going to diminish here." Jim sighed, discouraged by this person's depressed comment. At least, he thought, they speak English. "Where are we?" he asked, hoping that that wasn't just a one-time reaction.  
  
"In a dungeon," they responded. Jim fought the urge to say, 'No kidding, I hadn't noticed,' but they continued, "Where we will all be broken, maimed, killed, or whatever else they feel like doing before they burn our remains." Jim decided not to comment on this being's state of mind, be it depressed or just crazy. He held a hand to his forehead as the voice (he decided that it was a girl) said, "I've been here for 12 sleeps, and I keep falling. If you stay awake when they feed you, you can here people crying. They know. They know and they won't tell, but they won't eat, either, so neither will I, and neither should you."  
  
"Falling?" Jim asked, confused, "What are you talking about? And who're they? Why are they crying?"  
  
Suddenly, ten small embers glowed across the hallway. They seemed to leap foreword and grab the bars of the cell. Jim could barely see the outlines of two hands. The claws of these hands glowed. Whatever that creature was, it's fingertips could glow like sparks. Two yellow eyes gleamed above the hands. Eyes that reminded him of someone from many years ago, but that he just couldn't bring to mind right now. Eyes that would haunt. "You have eaten here, tell me, who are you? Where did you come from? Where were you before you were caught? When was the day of your birth?" The eyes widened with each question, disturbing him considerably, until he thought that they couldn't get any bigger. Then they froze, waiting for his answers.  
  
"I'm Jim, Jim Hawkins, I come from a planet called Montressor, I was on my ship, the RLS Mistletoe, and my birthday is." Jim trailed off, shocked. He didn't know. He couldn't remember. The information was just gone. Jim stuttered as he thought, and the creature across the corridor relaxed, their eyes seeming to soften and the hands eased their grip around the bars.  
  
"There, now you see?" she asked resolutely. "No," he replied, frustrated, "No, I don't see. What does that have to do with the food of this place and why people are crying? I was hit real hard on my head before, that's why I don't remember right now, give me a while I'll get it."  
  
"You'd better hope so," the girl said, pulling away from the bars, fingers still glowing. Lighting up another thing that seemed to be a sort of incense, she asked coolly, "Your mother's name? Your father's name?"  
  
Jim's inner struggle began. "Sarah," he muttered, "Sarah and. and." Jim could have smacked himself. The fact that the female across the hall seemed expectantly awaiting his admittance of ignorance and her apparent air of experienced superiority just frustrated him further and make him angry. (A/N: big words.sorry) Finally giving up, but not wanting to admit it, Jim changed the subject. "Who are you, anyway? And what are we doing here?"  
  
The creature remained darkly cool. "I once knew why we are here. It is gone now. All I know is, that we will be broken once we are lost in ourselves."  
  
Jim was losing his patients. "Plain English, please!" he exclaimed, fed up.  
  
The female's eyes glowed coldly. "We are here to forget we ever existed. Soon you will forget that you are Jim Hawkins from Montressor. It is the food. The soup is bizarre; it makes you forget things, thought-by-thought, day-by-day, until you find yourself waking up one day without a name. You will eventually forget about the wickedness around us, and you only know that you are hungry." She turned to glare at him, "And there's nothing you or me or any of these other poor saps can do about it."  
  
Jim's shoulders fell from determination and anger to grim disbelief. "What? How's that.? W-Why?" he sputtered.  
  
"I told you," she said grimly, "I forgot."  
  
"Who are you?" Jim asked. "What are you?"  
  
The girl stalked up to the bars again, glairing out at him, her eyes reflecting the glow of her fingertips. "I am Lee. And I am a Lupe."  
  
[Da-na! Ok, the Lupe thing will be easier to understand eventually. Ok, now I'm gonna try to remember all the stuff I wanted to say, soo.. ummm.. Ok, first, I need some help. Not with this story, I think I'm going ok for now, but I need a beta-reader for another story I'm going type and finish eventually. As much as he rocks, I completely suck at writing in accents, and I find it VERY difficult to try and write Silver's accent. -_-;;; So if someone can beta-read and fix up some parts, I'd be eternally grateful and give you credit and apple pie and all that other nice stuff! Oh, and, if the girl's accent is hard to figure out, think Ms. Spider's voice from James and the Giant Peach. Gomen nasai for waiting a week to post this!!! Hot apple pie with ice cream on top goes to all reviewers!!!!] 


	3. Lupes Explained

Sound the Bugle  
  
Author's Note: Woo! 13 reviews! I had almost given up hope! ^_^ Thank you! My sincerest apologies for taking so darned long! -_-;;; I know how much I hate it. I just got lazy. O.o and for a while my keyboard wouldn't type 's' and 'w', cuz I spilt soda on it. And the fact that tomorrow is my first day of high school may or may not make it easier for me to write. See, when I'm procrastinating something else (like Homework _), it's easier for me to do things I should put off. I dunno, it just works out. And I guess, yeah, its a bit more drama than angst, but I've forgotten how to fix it. I'll figure it out, eventually.  
  
[Disclaimer: If I had a good witty comment on how I don't own Jim, Treasure Planet, and all that other good stuff.. I'd put it here.]  
  
Jim was stunned. A thousand different thoughts ran through his head at the mention of Lupes. He knew what they were, but it just wouldn't piece itself together. An old voyage, a feline who wasn't a cat, and the word 'Cut-Tail.' It was this last word he said aloud, and his companion seemed to flair.  
  
"You know of us, then?" she asked, "You knew a cut-tail?" Jim nodded absently, still trying to get a picture of his old friend into his head. It seemed that memories would formulate, melt, then slip away, and it was very frustrating. Lee seemed to nod calmly, as if she could read Jim's mind by the look on his face. She grinned. "Yes, it is maddening at first, isn't it? But you'll get used to it, we all do."  
  
"Then help me!" he exclaimed, his voice raising, but not so loud as for the guards to hear him, "Tell me who you are, what you look like, where you come from, anything!"  
  
"I told you," she hissed. "I am Lee. I have never known where I had come from, and I've never seen myself. I've seen others, though. Others with glowing claws, and yellow eyes and pointed ears."  
  
She trailed off, her hand brought close to her face, claws glowing. In the dim light, Jim could see her face, finally, more clear than before. Eyes like a feline, but orange, or yellow, a face shaped like a cat's, but with a slightly more pronounced snout. Her lips were parted, as she stopped speaking mid-phrase, and he could see her teeth were longer, and sharper than a cat's would have been, her ears were bigger, open, as if looking for any sound outside this dungeon.  
  
Seeing all this, an image sprang to his mind. It was a long time ago. There was a cat, and a small version of the creature in front of him, only it wasn't. That creature looked clipped and awkward, but it was impossible to mistake the eyes and the snout. On his first voyage, there was a passenger with them for a short time, seemingly not important, but several people took a great interest in her. A feline the girl was indebted to, a doctor that she lied to, and an old sea cook, who she feared at first, then something happened. but it wouldn't come. Jim closed his eyes. The memory wouldn't even materialize and melt the way others would.  
  
But then something did. A long, loud sound that was both high and low, ecstatic and frightened. A sound that was old as a race, and new as spring. A sound that was held back for so long that it burst forth with such force it made him dizzy. In his mind, it seemed to go on forever, a mournful howl, a gleeful cry, until it grew to almost a scream.  
  
Then, suddenly, it seemed to surround him. In the past, in his head, in his ears, and all around him, until it filled the room, vibrating the very bars of his cell. He heard someone, another prisoner, scream.  
  
Finally, after what felt like hours, it slowed and stopped. He slowly opened his eyes, his ears still ringing, and looked across the hallway to Lee. She was panting, her hands and eyes glowing brilliantly, a satisfied look on her face. She looked over at him, and tucked a few stray hairs behind her large ears, grinning almost madly. "I haven't. done that.. in an age," she breathed.  
  
Jim could only stare. "A Wolf," he whispered, "You're a Wolf."Lee nodded slowly, still panting, her eyes beginning to dim, and her claws cooling back to simple embers. "Like Clair," he said, before he thought about it. Then something seemed to come into focus, like the spin of a kaleidoscope.  
  
Clair was a young Lupe that had bought temporary passage on the RLS Legacy, his first journey. Her ears were clipped to resemble a feline's, and her tail had been cut off, but they could do nothing about her eyes and muzzle. She could make tiny embers in her claws glow, as Lee could, but rarely did. She had been very afraid of Silver, too, for some reason, she had never told Jim why, but somehow the old pirate had figured out what she was. From then on, once a month if they could risk it, Silver would take her out in a longboat far from the ship, and let her howl until she couldn't anymore.  
  
Apparently she had an incredible need to, because if she couldn't, she would lock herself in her almost sound proof bunk room and scream until she lost her voice. Silver had taken him out three times with the Lupe pup, and all three times Clair's howling gave him chills. It was never a very bad sound, but Jim didn't know why it had to be so secretive. At least, he didn't know any more.  
  
"Lee?" he asked tentatively, "Why are Lupes a secret?"  
  
But the wolf across the hallway had fallen asleep, the scent of vanilla pervading over the thick silence.  
  
[So how is it so far? The whole thing about Clair is a story I started to write, but never got around to finishing. I've got a lot of parts to it, but I can't figure out how to tie them all together. I'm workin' on it, though. Thanks again to everyone who reviewed and didn't smash me when I took so long to get this up. ^_^ Apple pie to all reviewers!]  
  
[P.S. to Snowecat, although I'm ok with a FEW Yaoi pairs (male/male) (like Hiei x Kurama ^.^;;; ), thought the though Jim and Silver as lovers makes me sick, so nothing to worry about ^_^. No offence to those who like them together, but Silver's, like, Jim's father! I know he isn't biologically, but it still freaks me out. Blech.] 


	4. Losing Your Grip

Author's Note: Holy CRAP. I am, right now, in my second year of High School. Proof to all of my lazy and uninspired-ness. Just incase you cared to know how dang long this is taking me. Started this chapter on 12/17/04 at around 11 PM. I'm not sure if I'm writing these notes for you or for me, but I've taken to writing down when I write stuff. It is partly to annoy myself, though, I know that much. Maybe you'd be interested, too. And everyone who waited forEVER for me to update this, thank my friend Corey (Kyorei) for prodding me for it. . Thankies Squirrel!

And, about the character that Jim calls Clair, she was a made up char of mine that I liked to throw onto the Legacy in my head when I was bored. No romance, no wild adventures of her own, just a little side-tracked-ness on the way to Treasure Planet. She never even made it to the planet itself, she was just a hitchhiker. If anyone cares, I'll put a brief bio (very brief, I promise) into the next chapter. Won't have much to do with this, seeing as Jim is going to forget about it all soon anyway P.

Disclaimer: It's late and I have no imagination, so I just don't own Jim P

* * *

After Lee had drifted off in that most irritating way, Jim had called over every couple of minutes to see if she would wake up, but to no avail. It didn't seem to matter to him much more than the fact that she was someone to talk to. It was easier to avoid feeling lonely talking to a stranger than it was to sit in silence and think about the people he knew well. He wished, out of anything else, that he could have some light. That was another thing the Lupe offered from her fingertips. Or a clock. Knowing the time might make it all a little bit more bearable.

But then again, if he had a way to watch time, it would only seem to move slower. That's the way it always was for him in school, anyway. Maybe he would go mad from the steady tick-tock instead of the dripping sound of the water that persisted. With nothing else to do, he laid back down on his cot resolutely and gazed into the blackness above him, trying to see the ceiling.

He fell asleep that way, and remained sleeping until a loud click and squeal of the rusty metal door woke him, god only knows how long later. In the abrasive yellow light, Jim squinted at first. After his eyes adjusted slowly, he looked around him furtively, drinking in the lighted details. None of it was special; none of it was even remotely pleasing to look at, but to _see_ it was something he needed to do. He hated the constant dark so far. In the dim glow across the hall, he could see Lee crouched warily on her cot, trying to stay hidden in the shadows. He figured it must make her feel secure.

Jim noticed, even as he himself was doing it, how she seemed to be drinking in the sight of him. Greedily she moved her eyes over him, quickly as if she were afraid he would disappear back into the darkness. The short moments of sight that the prisoners had were a forbidden taste of a pleasure, taken secretly. Everything down there seemed to be arranged to demoralize them as much as possible.

It wasn't terrible, as far as he knew, they didn't beat the prisoners or anything, it was more like the feeling a toothache gives you. Always there, and though not really very horrible, still could be crippling. You just have to bite down on it, make it hurt for real, so the dull ache will go away. That was what staring into the darkness for hours on end was like. Bad, but not the most evil thing you could do to a person.

The door of his cell creaked open to the key of the squid from the-- day? hours?-- before. He wordlessly replaced the empty bowl on the floor with a full one. Jim could almost still taste it, not extravagant, but good in it's own way. He wanted it, but Lee's words made him wary. Maybe she was just crazy. Maybe she'd been hit on the head too hard. Who knew what she had gone though before coming here, his mind reasoned. I'm hungry and I want that soup. She certainly didn't seem to be all there.

But then again, why take chances? He left the bowl where it was.

He heard Lee growling across the hall when her door was opened. She was the last one to be served, being on the opposite side of the hall closest to the door. The squid barked something angry at her, and then kicked the tray closer to the cot where she crouched like a cornered animal. Jim wanted to tell her to just chill out, but he kept his mouth closed. The guard grumbled as he wheeled his cart out to the thick door, muttering to himself about back in the day when you broke them in right, hard work right away, and beat them 'til they submitted. None of this new-fangled 'brain-washing' business. Waste of time.

Jim sharpened at this, what could very probably be hints. It sounded like he could be talking about slaves… that sounded about right. Right and familiar. Maybe that's why he couldn't be seen near the spaceport, along with the other human crew members. Were humans slaves? He couldn't recall. Maybe. Probably. He stretched his legs and crept across the cell to the bars.

"Lee," he whispered.

She similarly came to the edge of her cage, again gripping the cold bars with her gently glowing fingers.

"You're shivering," he noticed. He had, in his mind, considered her a friend already.

"You as well," Clair replied in a falsely calm voice. It was new to Jim, to hear this tone from her. He hardly knew her, but it had felt like longer than the day or two it might have been already. He also noticed that it was true; he, too, was shivering. With the cold, or something else he could not tell.

"So, when was the last time you actually ate anything?" he wondered to her, trying to be conversational amidst the hushed sounds of greedy slurping from a couple of other cells.

She looked away, "I've been taking a sip or two every feeding for three pairs of meals now. They seem to feed us twice a day, so.. Perhaps three days now, very little."

For some reason, showing this little bit of weakness, submission in the form of not meeting his eyes as she did the previous conversation, and being able to see her shake, had toned down her mysticism. There was still the glowing fingertips, the thick yet hollow accent of her voice, and the ever-present scent of vanilla drifting from her to him, but now she seemed more real.

Jim hesitated, then slowly squeezed his arm out between the bars. She glanced up, startled at this odd action. He reached his hand out to her, crossing just barely more than half the hallway. She easily slipped her thin arm out, reaching out for his hand. Their fingertips touched, her furry hands with their luminescent claws trying to hold onto his smooth, dirty fingers. They stayed that way for a moment, as if making sure the other was real, then pulled away simultaneously. They did not speak again for some time, staring instead at the identical wooden bowls, colorless and formless in the darkness.

"I don't want to forget my name, Jim," she said softly at last, not looking up, although he did. "They're going to make us forget everything, and make us slaves. We will be nothing; we will be empty shells that do their work for them. Broken. Nothing."

Clair's words chilled him. She still did not look up. From somewhere down the hall, a soft sob was heard. "I hate this place," she confided. Jim still said nothing, not knowing what to say. "I'm so hungry," she finished at last in a voice so soft he could barely hear her.

Finally, Jim managed to say, "Look, just eat. I'll tell you everything you forget later." She looked up at him, sharp and surprised.

"It will not matter then," she responded. "I will not even know what I have forgotten. That is how it works."

The whole thing still baffled Jim. Slaves. Humans were slaves to some species, just as Lupes were. He knew this, remembering it now that his memory had been jogged. They would be sold.

"You need to eat something, or you'll starve," he mumbled, not looking up at her. He didn't want to feel like he cared about anyone else. It was easier that way for now. She seemed to glare at him for a moment.

"I am Lee. That is all I still hold onto. I am a Lupe, and I howl the Song of the Lenorek," she said, soft and quick so that Jim wasn't sure he had heard. Then she nearly dove for the bowl, gulping down the rich, spicy broth. He blinked and she was done. He was sure now that the food held a sedative, because she immediately looked drained and sleepy, even though they had only been awakened an hour or so ago.

"Wait, Lee, what's Lenorek?" he sputtered the demand.

"My family name, I think," she yawned. "Thank you, Jim."

"No problem," he muttered, looking down at his own bowl. He hesitantly picked it up and took a small sip. Maybe he could have little bit's at a time, make it last and delay the effects. He sure hoped so. The tiny bit didn't make him tired at all, so all he had to look forward to was hour upon hour in the dark, listening, straining, and waiting. "Maybe I'll exercise or something."

So he did. He jogged in place, did pushups and crunches on the cot, stretched his legs and arms, twisted his back around to keep himself limber, and did everything he could in the small space without further hurting his straining muscles. But all that work was doing was making his stomach growl louder. At last, he gave up. He set himself on the cot and picked up the bowl, taking another sip. Then another. Then a gulp. Before he had realized it, he had finished the whole thing. Cursing to himself, he kicked the bowl into the wall. It bounced harmlessly back to his feet. He didn't feel like waiting to get tired, and just lie down on the small gray bed and closed his eyes.

I kind of want to end the chapter here, but I really didn't get much done right there. Maybe I'll go just a tiny bit further, then go to bed.

Days passed. This became the system. Lee would trust Jim with more and more of her secrets each day. As she forgot things, she remembered others and told them to Jim. The saddest part was, they were sometimes erased from him from whatever brainwashing they put into the daily meals. Jim would tell Lee simple things about himself. When they both woke up, they would remind each other of who they were, touch hands for a moment, or however long it took to tire their arms suspended across the gap between them. Twice they actually held hands.

However well they thought they were surviving, they both saw signs of the other failing. Lee's light grew noticeably dimmer by the day, and every now and then a faraway look would come to her face. Jim had taken to telling her about the Benbow to occupy time, and to help remember it himself. After a while, he would leave out details, change things in his stories, and once he even forgot the layout of his own home.

One morning, Lee asked in a timid voice, devoid of all her usual mystery, "Jim… where are we?" That was when they both knew that it was almost over. They didn't even try fasting, they knew that after a while, they would just have to give in.

A few days later, Lee stopped responding to her name. Jim tossed rocks to get her attention, and then she just stared at him, blank and curious, and not at all worried or frightened. She stopped talking. Jim tried to stop eating again.

Later on, what could have been whole days, Jim woke to the sound of the main door, head foggy and neck stiff. But this time there was no food cart, just the squid, and another figure. A large man, it seemed, humming to himself and shaking a set of chains and irons like bells to his rhythm. Jim was pretty sure he should know them, but it just didn't compute.

The person went right to Lee's cell, shook a set of keys from his belt and opened the door. "Com'on, out ye go, lass," he said, and the Lupe stood obediently, with the silence and grace of a small child. As the irons clicked onto her wrists, Jim jumped to the bar door of his own cell.

"Lee!" he called. For the first time in a while, she turned to her name, but so did the one chaining her. She only looked at him, though, and did not show anything recognition. It was like the way a pup will respond to any noise directed at them with mild interest.

"Hey, leave her alone, put her back!" Jim yelled at the stranger. "Creep, leave her alone!" He already felt lonely with the female still there. Alone, he didn't think he could take much more. He still talked to her, even when she paid him no attention.

"An' just what're ye goin' ta do if I don't, eh?" asked the other in humor.

Jim made a face like a scowl and lunged through the bar, grabbing at the tattered remains of Lee's sleeve. She shrunk away, startled, but he held on. His patience out, the man grabbed Jim's arm and pulled him roughly up against the bars and brought his face down to his menacingly.

"Now see here ye lit'le--"

He paused, seeing Jim's face for the first time. Having knocked his head against the bar, Jim's vision blurred for a moment. Even then, in the darkness, something registered familiar in his brain. As if in slow motion he scanned the man's face. Dark skin, a glowing cybernetic eye, gears whirring at the side of his face, and a dirty bandana on top of his head. _I should know that face…_ thought Jim dazedly.

Suddenly, the older male dropped him as if burned. Jim continued to stare distantly, while the stranger looked stunned. Lee stayed where she was, looking distractedly at the ceiling.

"Jim?" came the hoarse voice at last. "The blue blazes… is tha' really you?"

Jim didn't move. Didn't nod, didn't shake his head, he just continued to stare. The other took a step closer. "I mean, sure, your hair's grown long an' you're all scruffy.. And you're older, too, but… Jim?"

Jim rubbed his face. He hadn't shaved this whole time, and sure enough the scruffy beginnings of a beard scratched at his bare hand. Slowly he nodded.

"Gods, lad, what're ye doin' _here?_" the older man demanded, looking completely stunned.

"Not by choice," he muttered the reply, still wary. "Who… are you?"

The older man just looked shocked and sad. "Ye mean ye really don't remember me? I mean- oh. Yes. O'course. Jim, it's _me_, Silver!"

* * *

Oh! I leave you hangin'! Review, and maybe I'll update quicker than this last one, lol.


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